of all the pleasure candy

Pernod on her breath and thick Clinique

citrus and alcohol

players unfiltered tilted in her slender fingers

my tie is correct

this dark suit is pressed

one diamond glitters on a silver stud

we grin our wolfish grins and drink

our tonics

swept up in the beat of music

the techo eighties

crimped hair

midnight and we’re still there

swaying and inebriated

the sweating masses

the shiny faces of

revellers

our masks delight us

as we play

toast to morning

here at last

this frosted cup of Pernod

dew burning off the neglected back lawn

…O…